Doug Allyn - The Best American Mystery Stories 2003

Lancaster nodded again, plucked a piece of invisible lint off his suit coat. “Perhaps you’re ignoring the rather blatant comparisons.”

“What do you mean?”

The older man gestured to the White Tower. “What crime was committed here. The murder of two young princes. And what kind of crime was committed in your own country. In 1963 and 1968. Two young princes, loved and admired, who promised great things to their people. Cut down at a young age.”

Kevin was aghast. “The Kennedys?”

“Of course.”

“You brought me all the way over here to spout conspiracy theories? Gibberish? Who the hell are you?”

“I told you, in a matter of—”

Kevin grabbed his knapsack. “And I’ll tell you, unless you come straight with me, right now, I’m leaving. I’m not here to listen to half-ass Kennedy assassination theories. And you can cancel my room and airfare home, and I don’t care. I’ll pay my own way.”

“And not finish your book?”

“That’s the price I’ll pay,” Kevin said.

Lancaster smiled thinly. “How noble. Very well. Here we go. Leave now and your book will never be completed, you know that, don’t you. Leave now and you won’t get tenure. In fact, your life will start getting unwound. You will be forced out of your college, perhaps be tossed back into the great unwashed. Teaching English at high schools or what you folks call vocational technical schools. Or perhaps conjugating verbs to prisoners. Is that a better life than teaching at a comfortable university?”

Kevin felt his breathing quicken. “Go on.”

“Stay with me and learn what I have to offer, and you’ll not only write your book, you’ll write a book that will become an instant bestseller. You will be known across your country and ours as well. If you want to stay at your university, that will be fine, but I can tell you, once this book comes out, Harvard and Yale and Stanford and Columbia will come begging at your door. That’s your choice now, isn’t it. To stay or go.”

“Yeah, that’s a hell of a choice,” Kevin said.

Lancaster smiled. “But a choice nonetheless. It’s a pleasant day, Professor Tanner. We’re both alive and breathing and enjoying this lovely autumn day in the best city on this planet. Let me continue with what I have to say, and what I have to offer. And then you can leave and decide what to do next. All right? Don’t you at least owe me some time, considering the expense that was incurred to bring you over to our fair country?”

Kevin lowered his knapsack to the ground. “All right, I guess I do owe you that. But make it quick and to the point. And I’m not going to do a damn thing until you tell me who you are, and why you spent all this money to have me fly over.”

Lancaster nodded, folded his long hands. “Very well. That seems quite fair. Well, let’s begin, shall we? Another history lesson, if you prefer. Let’s set the stage, that place, as Shakespeare said, where we are all just actors. But this stage has a bloody history. Tell me, who runs the world?”

Kevin hesitated, thinking that he had fallen into the clutches of that odd group of loons and eccentrics who sometimes haunt college campuses. At one faculty luncheon some months ago, he remembered some physics professor bemoaning the fact that a junkyard dealer in New Hampshire had finally come across a Unified Field Theory and wanted the professor’s assistance in getting his theory published. So now it was Kevin’s turn, and again that temptation came up, to walk away from this odd man.

But...like the man said, it was a pleasant day, he had money and a nice room and a ticket back home, and if nothing else, at least he’d have a good story to tell at the next English faculty function.

So he nodded, gestured toward Lancaster. “All right, a fair question. Who does run the world? I’m not sure the world is actually run. If anything, I think it’s hard to even come to an agreement as to who actually runs the country. As a conservative, I could say legally elected governments, in most cases, run most countries in the world. As a liberal, I suppose I could make a case that in some nations, corporations or the military have their hands in running things.”

“Ah, not a bad answer,” Lancaster said. “But let’s try another theory, shall we? What would you say if I told you that royal families across this great globe actually... as you say it, run things?”

Oh, this was going to be a great story when he got back to Massachusetts, he thought. Kevin said, “All right, that’s a theory. An odd one, but still a theory. But I’m not sure I understand you. Royal families, like the House of Windsor, actually run things?” Kevin found himself laughing. “Then you’d think they could do a better job in running their own personal lives, don’t you?”

Lancaster didn’t return the laughter. “How droll, I’m sure, Professor Tanner. But when I say royal families, I don’t restrict myself to Europe. To make you feel more comfortable, let’s discuss your own country, shall we?”

“The States?” He tried to restrain a laugh. “What royalty we have resides in Hollywood. Or Palm Springs. Or on Wall Street. They’re involved in entertainment or business, and they get their photos in People magazine when they become famous, and in the National Enquirer when they get arrested or sent into drug rehab. That’s our royalty, Mister Lancaster. Your royalty’s been written up by Mister Shakespeare himself. Our royalty, if that’s what you call it, is a pretty ratty lot, if you ask me.”

Lancaster’s face seemed more drawn. “This isn’t a joke.”

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t being amusing.”

“You certainly weren’t. And you’re not taking this seriously. Not at all. And I suggest you do.”

“Or what? Will you have me arrested?”

Lancaster’s look was not reassuring. “That would be easier to accomplish than you think, Professor Tanner. So let’s proceed, shall we? I was asking you about royalty in America. I don’t care about your tycoons or your entertainers. What I do care about is the royalty involved in politics, the kind that actually, again as you say, ‘runs things.’ ”

Kevin didn’t like the threat he had just heard, but he pressed on. “I’m sorry, I don’t understand. We don’t have any kind of royalty in the United States.”

Lancaster’s look was imperious. “Really? Look at your own history. What names in the last half of the twentieth century have either been in your Oval Office or nearby in your Congress? Let’s try, shall we? Roosevelt, Kennedy, Rockefeller, du Pont, Bush, Gore, Byrd, Russell... wealthy families of influence who reside in and maintain the circles of power in your country. Tell me, Professor Tanner, are you really that naive?”

“No, I’m not that naive, and I’m also not that stupid,” Kevin said, thinking again of what a great tale this would make once he got back home. “But you’re reaching, Mister Lancaster, you’re reaching quite a lot. Those families are political families, that’s all, just like other families that have their backgrounds in oil, retail, or other kinds of business. Some families pick cattle, others pick politics. That’s it.”

“Really?” the man asked, his voice filled with skepticism.

“Really,” Kevin said.

“These... families, as you call them, have been running your government and your lives for many decades, Professor Tanner. Just like the royal families in Shakespeare’s time. In public they may show their good works and charities, as they run for office and for influence, but in private, it’s quite different. They lie, they cheat, and they steal, and oftentimes they kill. Look at your own news reports over the years, when famed members of these families would often die.”